Starvin' for Knowledge [OPEN RP]

[Masakano]

The fog hung low on the morning air and the chill nipped at Masakano’s caramel nose, it was the usual type of morning in the land of clouds. Wearily the young shinobi had drug herself out of bed to start her day, she had hastily scarfed down a few oranges and a glass of milk before deciding to make her way to the marketplace. She was running low on supplies within her small studio apartment, needless to say her father’s funds were simply not making it to her either. She had been completing small missions here and there to sustain herself however it still left her eating a poor diet; and that just simply wasn’t enough for a growing kunoichi.

As she waltzed her way into the market she admired all of the storefronts, some offered the freshest meats, others produce and weapons. There was such a range of diversity in this area of the village and even if she had no money to spend, she still liked to look.

“Hnn?"

She stopped, admiring a dango stand that graced the market plaza. The fresh dumplings seemed to be calling her name, however as she fished around in her pocket for some Yen she only found pocket lint. She sighed and looked towards the storekeeper with a dazed expression. There was no way a hardworking man like that would simply give free food to a miscreant. She dropped her head and walked off, her bright amber optics scanning the ground for misplaced coin instead of focusing ahead where she was walking.

 

[Takaki Saeko]

So I'm doing nothing with my time but sitting here in the square drinking coffee, because I couldn't think of a witty opening hook that didn't sound completely contrived. Just now, my gaze has locked on a particular-looking young woman drooling on herself in front of a dumpling kiosk. Interestingly enough, she's got orange eyes that glow like an angry Helghast, or maybe like Donado of Oranji after a really awesome tanning session.

The girl's obviously broke, by the way she furtively fishes around in the pockets of her unisex genin duds (the official Lightning Country military designation is "M338 Potato Conveyance Webbing Modified For Use as Outerware") for change that doesn't exist. She quickly changes tack and molests the sneeze guard with her eyes in an attempt to convince the cook to give her one out of pity. It won't work, of course, but she gets credit for trying. Then, like every young woman who wakes up one day and realizes she's not only poor, but fucking poor, she tightens her belt ("M339 Hempen Rope Modified For Use as Pantaloon Retention") and walks away.

I was in that boat, of course. No matter what branch you're in, the pay structure is set up to force you into a state of continual poverty and mounting debt. It's another way to ensure that us plebians never forget who owns us, and remind us that if we can't even make it within the confines of our glorious little prison-school, we definitely won't make it out there in the real world. After all, the real world is apparently full of missing-nin who'll rape us to death the minute we set foot outside without a passport.

Fortunately--the way time works in this world--I'm both old enough to have dug myself out of that trap, and young enough to remember just how shitty it all felt. And there's something about that orange-eyed girl that's more compelling than every other poor academy student out there who joins up only to "go inactive" (die in a training accident). I plunk down a few yen to pay for my coffee and dart out of my chair to make a beeline for the dumpling vendor. "Two pork bao," I tell him and pass a bill.

I trot off in the girl's direction and greedily bite into one of the dumplings, savoring the molten aspic and dissolved five-spice. These are good today, I marvel to myself as I huff and puff to vent some heat. Eventually, I catch up to the potato-sack girl and fall into lockstep alongside her. Conspicuously, I have a free, uneaten bun in my hand.

"Damn, that's a tasty pork bao," I say to her. "One of my coworkers at the gates, in her country they call it something else. 'Royale with cheese' or something. God-damned foreigners taking our jobs."

 

[Masakano]

Shuffle Shuffle. The way the girl’s feet plagued the ground physically embodied her inner feelings of dread. The brilliant luster that normally filled her eyes was absent; however the gold color still remained. She had made her way through the market plaza, unsure of what she was even planning. Why would she even come here without a Yen to her name, was she into some masochistic fantasies? The girl looked down to the grimy clothes upon her pre-pubescent frame; they hung looser than the norm; probably due to malnutrition. How in the hell did these missions not pay enough to sustain the shinobi who complete them? She pondered, kicking a small pebble as she drudged along.

Suddenly, a particularly aromatic breeze passed the girl’s sensitive snoot. Her head shot over immediately, her gaze fixating on the decadent glazed hunk of dough wrapped pork. She felt a warm stream of saliva ooze from her lips at the sight; it nearly stopped the youngling dead in her tracks.

"Damn, that's a tasty pork bao.”

Masakano didn’t need any reiteration on the fact, she could see how delicious it looked, how wondrous it smelled, and how juicy the pork encased in the middle was. The brilliance of her amber hues returned at the mere sight of a delicious snack, she found herself turning to this stranger with eager eyes. Hidden in them was a bit of need; perhaps even accompanied by a pout of her lower lip. She could admit she was not the best beggar, however at this point she was desperate for some sort of warmth in her gut.

“A—Ahh, yeah—that stand sells some of the best around!”

Her voice shook nervously; Masa raised a hand to flatten the dull maroon locks that rested on her head.

 

[Takaki Saeko]

"Totally, right?" I say, and let out my most vapid-sounding chuckle. "Ah, it's just too bad, because they're actually really fattening! You'd never know it, but when Shinbatsu was the kage, he demanded that all restaurants publish nutrition information on their wares, down to the ice cubes in the table water. There's like, five gorillion calories in one of these!"

I wave the uneaten bun around for dramatic effect, sure that the scent's positively tormenting my new prey--friend, I mean. Friend. Speaking of whom, I can positively hear her stomach gurgling. "Borborygmi" is the actual term the medical profession uses for those comical anime noises that signal either hunger or the urge to vomit. When people are hungry enough, incidentally, they also usually feel the strong urge to throw up.

"Oh!" I say with feigned distress. "That made me sound really old, didn't it? In truth, I wasn't even alive when the Ebony God of Gains, Blessed-Be-His-Glutes, was still ruling. I'm only twenty-something. There are actually a few octogenarian biddies around the village who both look like they're only thirty, and for your own good you should probably stay away from them." I bend down to whisper in her ear: "The secret ingredient to immortality is way too gross to talk about in public."

My attention returns to the bun, which I've been conspicuously keeping out of the genin's reach. "Then again, if I wanted to preserve my looks, I should probably cut back on the calories, myself. I guess my eyes were bigger than my stomach, eh? What a waste..."

Her eyes have been glowing progressively throughout our exchange. She's a hungry type, and not just for food. This girl is probably kind who'd gladly sell her soul to fill a void, whether physical or philosophical. The angel on my shoulder's pleading for me to not be a total shit and just give her the damned bao, and the devil on the other side's telling me to turn her into my slave. Huma to my Hillary, so to speak.

"Say... what branch are you affiliated with? Don't tell me you're a smelly ANBU or a creepy mednin."

 

[Masakano]

Such a tease. The young genin watched in pure astonishment as the bao was waved back and forth, it’s aroma wafting up her nares with each fiendish taunt. She was positive the older female could hear the audible snarls that her innards were releasing. The girl’s shoulders lowered as she became annoyed, the chuunin spoke of how she couldn’t manage two baos; yet wasn’t kind enough to offer the spare.

“I have no current affiliation, right now I am working on myself as a shinobi.”

Her voice contained a mix of gusto and anger, it was only fitting that the teenager would begin walking away from the other, her eyes narrowed and her brows knitted together in growing frustration. It simply wasn’t fair to let a fellow shinobi of the same village parish from starvation, how sadistic was this woman?

While the genin made her way down the street, she couldn’t contain her vexation. She kicked a nearby trash bin to release her pent-up aggression, however the metal bin seemed to be unphased by her assault. It merely wobbled back and forth before coming to a stop. She took a firm grasp on the lid, looking through its contents curiously; as much as she hated to admit she often found herself pillaging the waste of others for nutrition.

“Hmm, no rotten produce today, just garbage. My luck, is fantastic…”

 

[Takaki Saeko]

Aw, she's totally tired of my shit, isn't she? I sigh as the genin turns and walks away. On one hand I feel almost bad for taunting her so cruelly, and on the other, I'm miffed. Getting prodded by your insane elders is a Cloud rite of passage, for Shinbatsu's sake! Every shinobi who was worth a damn always had a tormentor in his or her early years. I'm about to shrug and just eat the second dumpling (actual calorie count: 486, including 200 from fat), when I see her do a desperate, dangerous, and potentially site-breaking thing.

"Whoa! Whoa!" I frantically rush up to her, wrest the garbage pail lid from her hand, and slam it back down in place with a resounding clang. "What do you think you're doing? That's extremely risky, you know?"

I invoke the necessary pacification ritual:

BORN TO DIE
WORLD IS A FUCK
Kill Em All 1989
I am trash man
410,757,864,530 DEAD COPS

I pant for a few seconds to catch my breath and proffer the bao. "Look, kid. If you want, you can take my spare, but only because it's clear that you're willing to do some insane shit when you're starving. There's absolutely no way I bought it for you because I felt bad about seeing a cute girl who reminded me of my younger self go hungry. That's not in my character description, and never will be."

I give the can a confirmatory nudge with my toe and resist the temptation to peek under the lid. "In case you're wondering, I didn't freak out because I thought you might eat garbage or something. I actually freaked out because popping open cans like that in this part of town is actually just a bit more unsafe than deliberately stepping into a landmine. I know that a ton of games and stuff make it look like it's totally fine to peek in the rubbish bin for rare items, but there's an exception here. Have you ever heard of the legend of Trashkage?"

 

[Masakano]

Bingo. Just like that the trashcan’s lid was wrestled from her bronze digits. She couldn’t help but internally grin, perhaps her bait worked after all. The older girl had relinquished their bao, and of course gave some bullshit explanation to go along with it. Masa let her grimy hands take the rounded bun, taking a moment to admire the craftsmanship of it’s perfectly doughy consistency; steam was rolling off it, filling the chilly air in front of her face. Whoever created this put that little extra ‘oomph’ in its preparation to really sell their baos in a market full of dumplings and delicacies.

“O—Ohoho, you shouldn’t have, I’m sure I would’ve found something to suffice in the garbage.” Her gaze shifted back to the metal container, it’s pungent odor which was something reminiscent of rotten cabbage and cat shit, filled the nearby area.

“T—Trashkage?”

Frankly Masa wasn’t the type to really dig through garbage, however she played it off well enough today and it managed to get her a free meal. She greedily bit into the bao, its spongey outside complemented once she got to the juicy pork innards. She chomped on it and spoke through a stuffed mouth.

“Nope, ain’t heard of that. Is that some kind of synonym for the Kazekage?”

She stifled a snicker between bites, her bright amber eyes locking with the others. The older woman carried a weird expression, and her appearance was rather odd. Not to mention the way they spoke, seemed almost as if they were mentally unstable. However, there was a part inside of the genin that felt like she owed it to the other to listen to their tale of the forlorn Trashkage. Yeah—She was gonna regret this, wasn’t she?

 

[Kogami Ayumu]

Ayumu was having an absolutely stellar day.

Somehow he had managed to get caught up on his paperwork to the point where he was actually able to organize his desk. This was unheard of. If he kept on top of it he might actually be able to keep it all in order for a month, maybe even more. Given that, it was the perfect opportunity to bail on the office and go walk about the town for the day while the paperwork piled back up. Of course if his secretary saw him attempting this she would throw him back into his office before he made it past the security checkpoint in the lobby. That was why he had become accustomed to exiting through his window despite it being near the top of the Torre Celeste which towered over the surrounding buildings. Those who worked around the tower had been startled from time to time to see a man walking down the side of the building but by now they were accustomed to it. Perhaps there was a reason the paperwork always seemed to pile up.

Whether it was a good idea or not, he was free for the day and enjoying it. He started off by passing by his favorite weapons shop to see if they had any fancy swords in stock. There were a couple that interested him but he decided against purchasing any for now. He did, however, walk out with a fancy paring knife which was stowed in his belt pouch for the time being. Afterwards, he began his established route through the markets of the village. He had determined a number of street vendors who would usually offer him free food when he passed. He figured it was because they were nice and liked him, but it might have been the Raikage title working in his favor. He'd stop and talk for a while and then as he made to move along they would stuff food into his hands for the road. Taking this particular route he usually had a full belly of delicious food before he reached the end.

He couldn't have been in a much better mood as he bit into the top dango of a skewer. In his other hand he held a small tray with several more skewers he had received from the last vendor he visited with. He rocked his head from side to side happily as he savored the soft and chewy treat covered in its sweet and salty glaze. Nothing could bring him down now, or so he thought. As he stepped around a corner, however, he happened upon a peculiar sight and paused. A young girl, just down the street, was staring into a trash can, seemingly searching for something. Realization set in quickly for Ayumu: she was searching for something to eat. His elated mood evaporated as he looked down at his free food guiltily and then looked at the poor girl ahead of him who was searching for a decidedly less appetizing form of free food.

This happened from time to time. Genin weren't paid very well- this was a well known fact established long before Ayumu had even been born. If you had parents to help you out this wasn't the end of the world, but orphans could have it rough if they didn't get promoted quickly. Chuunin were paid a decent enough wage which was why so many rushed to that rank and then settled there despite the higher pay of Jounin (since it was also accompanied by higher risk and responsibility). It also explained the tradition of senseis treating their orphan students, particularly the ones possessed by fox demons that killed their parents, to ramen at least once a week.

Ayumu was just about to approach the girl to offer what was left of his tray of dangos and possibly more when Saeko showed up beside her and snatched the lid away slamming it back down on the can. 'OH SHIT,' Ayumu thought in a panic, quickly ducking behind another nearby trashcan before she spotted him. He had been so close to being seen, the two of them less than half a block away. Fortunately for him, she had been focused on the girl. If anything could ruin his day off, it was Saeko. She was probably about to start yelling at the poor orphan, cold-hearted as she was. Yet, to Ayumu's shock, she actually offered the girl the bun she was carrying.

'WHAT? No way, Saeko doesn't have a heart, cold or otherwise!' Ayumu thought incredulously, 'Something else is going on here.' He hunkered down, prepared to eavesdrop from behind the trashcan. He couldn't stand now anyway, or he would certainly be spotted. He cocked an eyebrow at the mention of the Trashkage and then narrowed his eyes as he bit into another dango, chewing aggressively. 'I swear to Raiden, she had better not be starting another dumb rumor about me.'

[MFT 829]

 

[Takaki Saeko]

The girl's casual disdain for the people of Sand and their leadership warms my heart and gives me the ladies' equivalent of a half-chub. I place my hands on her shoulders and squeeze affectionately. Just when I've started to lose hope in humanity, an angel like this girl always always comes along and reassures me that we can all get along--by hating people different than us.

"No, young padawan and lemon-squeezer," I say. "I don't actually mean the Kazekage, although it's very patriotic of you to say so. My dear friend, Wakahisa Chiyoko, is the assistant headmaster of the Academy. I'm so glad I can tell her that the youth of the village are thinking with their heads on straight!" I cast another glance at the trash can. Good. It hasn't moved. Or exploded out a six-nine, three-hundred pound, raving, rum-smelling sack of muscle. "The Trashkage is from our own village. I'll tell you the story:

"Despite being a prison-school dedicated to the manufacture and containment of autistic murder machines--that's us shinobi, in case you didn't realize--Kumogakure isn't a safe place at all. In fact, the first thing that a lot of our twelve-year-old academy students do when they're first released onto the streets is pretend that they're being set on by bandits and street thugs and end up beating the hell out of a lot of our civilian population and causing an ass-ton of property damage. If you look back at the usual threads, it's all 'I was walking down the street and all of a sudden twelve guys rushed me and tried to take my wallet.' I don't know if they do it just because we ninja are compelled to kill at all times, or because of all the drugs and implants and weird psychotropic conditioning they do in the academy. Whatever.

"Anyway, the civs started to complain about this, so the last kage, Akira Saito, decided to take matters into his own hands. He slammed an entire bottle of Viagra, washed it down with a gallon of Jamison and a few blister packs of Adderall, and then when he couldn't walk because he kept tripping over this mysterious third leg that had suddenly appeared, he went out and took a nap in a dumpster in an alley. When one of our lovely new genin and his pals decided to go crazy and start attacking random people, Trashkage Saito awoke from his slumber and beat them all to death. With his mysterious third leg."

I spread my arms out to maximum and try to illustrate for her the size of the death appendage, but I'm probably not doing it justice. "So, that's why you don't want to go around poking through the trash in this place. You never know if you're going to wake the Trashkage up. Now, I know that you're probably thinking it's fine because Saito's no longer the kage, but word is that he passed the secrets of the summoning ritual to his successor, Kogami Ayumu. And you might also think that you have nothing to worry about because Yumers wants to look like everyone's goofy best friend, but those are lies. Damn lies! In truth, Yumers is probably the most dangerous of them all. Don't let his jolly bumbling act fool you--he's got a clockwork mind that's always set to 'screw.' And worst of all, he's claimed the village idol, Higa Kahako, as his waifu and somehow made her have a kid, even though she's the purest of them all. I wouldn't be surprised if that man's taken the mantle of Trashkage, looking to vent his loathsome, sadomasochistic tendencies on unsuspecting girls like us."

I sniff around suspiciously. Is that the smell of dango on a stick wafting from nearby? Are we being watched? A chill runs down my spine. Only Ayumu would so casually gobble balls in public like that. My attention goes back to the girl. "Here, take my hand and I'll walk you home. Despite appearances, I'm fully capped, though I've got no build to speak of. What's your name, anyway?"

 

[Masakano]

Masakano was getting to the point where she was regretting being anywhere close to the inner village, her eyes narrowed to a half-lidded gaze as she listened to the woman’s long and overly-animated story. There were bits within that could only have been made up for entertainment purposes; however a bunch of the shit flew right over the genin’s head. Masa maintained her glazed over stare adamantly throughout the entire banter; be it the illicit drug use, to talk about third legs she had no interest. The genin took it all in, every---single---miniscule detail. She had met Saito before but—he didn’t appear to be some low-life in a trashcan. Should she trust this woman who seemed to exaggerate the norm?

The older demanded her hand to chaperone her back to her home, however Masa got an eerie feeling in the pit of her gut with this one. Her bright eyes scanned around to find that no one was there to bear witness if this so called—“capped ninja” decided to slit her throat and feast upon her entrails. Or worse, do the dilly dally with those long sinister digits that outreached towards her. She felt a knot grow in her throat as she contemplated her next decision carefully.

“H...Hnn...” She mumbled to herself her caramel colored hand reaching out to take the other’s, it was still moist from the steam that rolled off the bao and only lubed up her fingers for ultimate interlocking action. A sly grin rolled over the genin’s lips now as she made eye contact with Saeko.

“Oh yeah, walk me home you creepy-eyed ninja who could totally obliterate me in more ways than one. I feel the need to whole-heartedly trust you so that you can walk me into an alleyway and kill me in cold blood or rape me.” Perhaps the last words left her mouth as a jest, but once she audibly spoke them she started to falter, believing everything that she just spoke could come true in a matter of moments. She pointed off in some random direction, assuming that was where she lived. The shitty section-8ish housing that the village provided genin was astounding and you could smell it from miles away.

 

[Kogami Ayumu]

As Saeko began the story by confirming that the Trashkage was a Kumogakure resident, Ayumu was prepared to be pissed off. She was for sure going to tell another ridiculous story to try to turn the newest generation of shinobi against him like she had with Chiyoko. He chomped down on another dango and ripped it off of the skewer as he listened to her go on. Yet, as it turned out, the story was not about him but his predecessor, Saito. The cautionary tale that followed sounded like some bizarre and vaguely sexual fever-dream Saeko had. By the end of it, Ayumu was beginning to think he was actually going to be excluded from this particular fantasy. He was a fool for hoping. It was hidden, right there at the end.

The usual revelations of how Ayumu seemed nice but was actually a huge pervert who had stolen the village's idol, Kahako. Ayumu truly had no idea what had started this feud between him and Saeko, but it had been going on for years now. It had only gotten worse when she had become smitten with Kahako only to find out that she was dating Ayumu. Worse yet, he later had a child with Kahako- his ultimate sin. Saeko took every opportunity to badmouth Ayumu to anybody that would listen and undermine his authority. In retaliation, he sent her on some of the most bullshit missions that came across his desk. There was a small part of him that chose her because she was capable, but a larger part of him than he would admit chose her because he knew it just annoyed the hell out of her.

Ayumu's eyebrows furrowed as he snapped the empty skewer in his hand angrily and picked up a fresh one. Now Saeko was offering to take the girl home, probably so she could fill her impressionable Genin mind with more anti-Ayumu propaganda. Ayumu peeked around the corner of the trashcan watching as the girl extended her hand to Saeko's despite her words seemingly expressing that she realized how dangerous Saeko might be. Ayumu had to do something. The irony that he, the supposed Trashkage, was hiding behind a trashcan was not lost on him. Revealing himself now would give some credit to Saeko's story. It was a sacrifice he had to make. He would take on the mantle of Trashkage if it meant rescuing this poor Genin from Saeko's grasp. He took a deep breath and then shot upright from behind the trashcan.

"Stop right there, Saeko! Unhand the girl!" Ayumu shouted, pointing the fully loaded dango skewer in his hand at her while still awkwardly cupping the tray in his other hand. "You there! Step away from her, she's dangerous!" he pleaded with Masakano. If she couldn't trust him as the Raikage or didn't recognize him, perhaps she would at least side with the warm food he still had in his possession.

 

[Takaki Saeko]

As she reaches out for me, I can't help but notice how suggestive her hands are. Slick with moisture, glinting from all that HDR Bloom or whatever's the new trend in graphics these days, and of course, irresistibly brown. She's not even being coy about it--those quivering digits are spread about as wide as in my wildest doujins. I just wanted to walk her home gently, not commit the lewdest of all possible acts (interlocking fing--God, it's so embarrassing I can't even enunciate it) in a garbage-strewn alley. Hell, she doesn't even care to know my name. What are they teaching the kids these days?

"Uh...hey, wait," I say, taken aback and blushing furiously. "You don't need to do that for a stranger you literally just met on the street... I mean, you're super cute and all, but first of all I'm pretty straight and second, we're kind of in public, and I didn't even do that with my actual boyfriend until long after we started dating, I mean, hell, we'd done an--"

Her words don't help the situation, either. Of all the genin to stumble into randomly, I had to get the one who's into abduction and murder fantasies. My skin goes pale. I need to get out of here before this escalates. I need to find an adult. "Ah...you know, on second thought, maybe I'll just, uh, let you go on ahead toward Smellville by yourself..."

At this moment, all hell breaks loose. The death-drum clang of a thousand erupting trashcans fills the alleyway with deafening cacophony, like demon heralds trumpeting the arrival of Satan Himself. I wince, spin around, and my legs go wobbly. Normally, I wouldn't give a damn about Ayumu pointing his balls at me in anger (that's sort of a normal thing between us). But this isn't the Yumers I know and disdain: there's a wild, extra fire in his eyes. My greatest fears have been realized. I shudder.

"Trashkage!" I frantically glance at my new acquaintance. "Oh god, don't eat me! Eat her first! I mean, you'll never have your way with this innocent genin! Prepare to be banished!"

I whip out my tactical spork and lock tines with the dango skewer. We're in a fight to the death.

[Calling Bmod]

[Okay, not really]

 

[Masakano]

Before her slick digits could even near the older woman’s her pale hand had retreated. A dark rogue coated the other girl’s cheeks as she became flustered from the thought of the most lewd of actions commencing. Masa, being the innocent and pure child that she was, was oblivious to the fact that rubbing her bronze fingers with Saeko’s would be a sin of the upmost evil. Apparently the act was more taboo than butt stuff, and that was saying something. Masakano’s mind raced with the thought of Saeko in compromising positions, a million pairs of hands grazing over the luscious pale skin that encased her body. She felt a rise in her gut, which soon sent a bit of rosy color to her own cheeks.

“Hnn, turning me down I see. It’s fine, I can walk myself home; I just figured since you offer—“ Her words were cut short at the sound of rattling aluminum trashcans and the squeaks of terrified rats. It was then that she laid eyes upon the urban legend. His dark navy locks whipped in stinky breeze that surrounded the area. His weapon of choice, a skewer of the sharpest wood available to the street vendors of the village. His form was immaculate; he was prepped for precision and aiming to kill.

“W—What the hell?” The words mumbled from her lips as she turned to see Saeko, whom in her hand braced an odd utensil; it was pronged like a fork, but had all the goodness of a spoon. Its plastic shined in the dull light that was obscured by looming clouds. The Genin felt a knot in her throat as she stood beside the two combatants. The ‘Trashkage’ had claimed that the younger girl was in danger, and was willing to lay it on the line to protect her. She knew this was serious now that the leader of the Cloud himself was here to intervene. Her legs moved on their own, pulling her petite body towards the handsome stink-monster who spoke as if he was from a 1980’s Chinese martial arts movie with bad dubbing.

Now her body was positioned between the two, unsure of whether to leave her newly found friend for her leader, whom she served whole-heartedly, or to betray him and stick with the person who was the first friend she made in the village. Her pearly whites dug into her lip as she contemplated, perhaps she should just stick around and watch the battle commence? I mean, after all—serving the strongest only made sense.

 

[Kogami Ayumu]

Brandishing the tiny wooden skewer, Ayumu stood resolutely determined to rescue the impressionable Genin. For once, it almost seemed as though Saeko was actually afraid of him. She almost offered the Genin as a sacrifice but thought better of it and drew her weapon, the formidable spork. 'Does-- does she actually believe this story?' Ayumu was left to wonder of Saeko. Masakano was confused, but seemed to heed Ayumu's warning to some extent as she put a little distance between Saeko and herself. She remained cautious of both of them, however, as was probably wise.

"You can't hope to win, Saeko! You don't even have a build!" Ayumu warned her. Despite her fear, Saeko advanced with her spork in a flash and her plastic met his wood in a spectacularly anticlimactic clash. Some of the dango balls were dislodged from the skewer during the contact and fell. Having his priorities in order, Ayumu deftly caught them in the tray still in his other hand before they could drop to the dirty street and then put some distance between himself and Saeko for a moment. In hindsight, he realized that he probably should have used one of the empty skewers.

"You almost made me drop those, dammit!" he barked, shaking his fist at her. "It might have been free, but they only gave me one tray!" He quickly inspected the dango tray to make sure it was all still intact. At least the skewer weapon was now unencumbered by dango balls. He was prepared if Saeko tried to strike again. It was no sword (let's just ignore the fact that his actual weapons were readily available at his hip) but it would do. By now, Masakano was positioned almost evenly between the two of them. Ayumu stole a glance at the young girl before fixing his gaze back on his mortal enemy.

"What's your name?" Ayumu asked, addressing the Genin though he couldn't spare a moment more to take his eyes off of Saeko. Whether she gave her name or not, he would continue. "You're hungry, right? I can get you some food, starting with this tray. Lots, in fact. You just have to trust me-- and not her," he spoke, trying further to convince her. Was it dirty to appeal to her hunger? Probably, but the Trashkage wasn't above getting dirty. Drawing his arm back, Ayumu suddenly tossed the skewer at Saeko much like he would a kunai. Of course, it was light weight and not really even all that sharp so it was more like he was throwing his trash at her. He picked up a spare empty skewer from the tray to replace it.

[Sending Actions]

 

[Takaki Saeko]

“Typical Yumers,” I say as he tries to salvage his falling dango. “Updating your profile page every goddamn second, but the slightest conflict and you just drop your salty balls everywhere. And for your information, you’re supposed to account for those as a gift! Free meals aren’t actually free!”

I step toward the young genin with my hand out, making sure to keep my fingers tightly closed together. There’s no need to give our Trashkage a free show, after all. “Just back away from him, young padawan! This is a textbook white van scheme! ‘Come with me little girl, I have treats in the back,’ and a week later they issue an Amber Alert, but that’s no help to you!”

Just as I’m about to save her, the dango skewer bounces off my face. At first, I’m dumbfounded—did Ayumu seriously just chuck his trash at me? The mature thing to do—the right thing to do would have been to brush it off, take the young genin by the arm, and march her all the way back home and then file a complaint to the Torre Celeste. But this is me we’re talking about, and I’m neither mature nor just.

“Argh!” I scream out, and plaster a palm over my right eye. I wheel around and drop to my knees, facing away from the two. Of course, there’s nothing actually wrong with my eye. With my free hand, I slip a piece of extra-chewy gum into my mouth and start to chew between gasps and shrieks. “My eye! Oh god, it went right in! Ayumu, how could you? I’m gonna have to wear an eyepatch like dad did! Now I can’t ever get married! You need to take responsibility!” I let out some convincing wails and sobs while rocking back and forth clutching my face.

Apparently, it’s enough to get Yumers to march over in concern and try to help. See, that’s the weakness of harem MC’s: a cute girl crying is more powerful than nuclear jutsu, especially when it’s the MC’s apparent fault. He looks and acts so sincerely contrite that I almost feel bad for what I’m about to do. When he gently cradles my chin and tries to peel my hand away from the “wound,” I reach into my mouth, grasp the nicely-soggy gum, and mush it right into his hair.

“Ha! Sucker!” I gleefully say as I push him back. “Throw your trash at me! Now you’re stuck in chewing-gum-no-jutsu, a bind that can only be broken by shaving yourself bald and becoming a monk!”

Now’s my chance to perform a tactical retreat and save the girl. I tip over one of the trashcans nearby, and it spills a river of the gnarliest-smelling garbage juice in history across the alleyway. Now, there’s a barrier of pure, unfettered stink separating Ayumu from me and the genin. “You’re trapped in two ways! Now you can just focus on self-improvement while you’re imprisoned there! Young padawan, let’s go!”

Unfortunately, my heroic bluster means I must open my mouth. That means that the atomized particles of garbage-juice-smell are actually hitting my palate directly. Any of us who breathe or talk are literally eating tiny pieces of airborne, fermenting shit. The realization is enough to stop me in my tracks and make me turn green. I didn’t think this through very well, did I?

Actions for the B-mod:

1. Use ‘Pretend to get hit in the eye-no-jutsu’ to fool Ayumu into dropping defensive stance.
2. Cast ‘ABC-no-bind’ on him. IF he resists or dodges, I complain to Admin and hold up the battle for like a year.
3. Cast ‘Spill that stuff you find in your garbage can after your bag breaks and it’s been a really hot couple of days after you tossed a whole lot of old leftovers away-no-jutsu’ on everyone as an AOE, to inflict ‘Grossed out’ status on all participants.
4. Roll to resist vomiting.

 

[Kogami Ayumu]

Ayumu pumped his fist victoriously as the skewer successfully hit Saeko. It wouldn't do any damage, of course, but the indignity of being hit by his trash was enough. The sudden scream of agony and dramatic drop to the floor suggested there was more damage than Ayumu had intended. 'Oh shit!' Ayumu thought, feeling his stomach drop in fear. He really hadn't intended to hurt her, that wasn't within his good guy persona to do. As Saeko carried on about her eye, Ayumu cautiously approached to check on her. She was a decent actor, Ayumu was beginning to buy it though he was hoping still that she was just overreacting.

"Calm down, calm down, it's... probably fine," Ayumu said as he stopped beside her and took a knee. He didn't see any blood, which was a good sign. "I'm sorry, okay? Let me see it," he continued, gingerly reaching out to pull her hand away from her eye. It was then that the opportunist before him struck. He had allowed himself to get so close he had no time to dodge as her hand shot out and smashed the gum right into his hair.

"What the hell?!" Ayumu started, falling back on his ass and dropping the dango tray. It quickly became apparent, given Saeko's perfectly fine eye and taunts, that it had all been a ruse to get Ayumu's guard down. Ayumu was now on the gross alleyway ground with gum in his hair, all because he had allowed himself for a moment to be concerned about Saeko. A mistake he would never make again.

"Ugh, you little shit! I should have known!" Ayumu shouted back angrily as he rolled to avoid the trash being dumped between Saeko and him, sullying his uniform in the process. He immediately pinched his nose to avoid the smell as Saeko patted herself on the back and made to abscond with the Genin. What neither of them had noticed, however, was that she had been smart enough to run while they were distracted and was nowhere to be found now.

"Ha! Look what you did," Ayumu exclaimed through pinched nostrils, pointing accusingly at Saeko, "You scared her off!" He was accepting no responsibility and blamed Saeko fully. In fact, as far as he was concerned he had successfully saved the Genin from Saeko's grasp. Having thought quickly enough to pinch his nostrils before the smell hit him, he was suffering considerably less than Saeko in that particular moment. She was distracted trying her best not to throw up and this was his chance to retaliate. He didn't want to cross the line of garbage across the alley, but he had already been successful with projectiles once.

"If it's the Trashkage you want, that's who you'll get!" Ayumu declared. The dangos from his tray had already spilled onto the ground and were no longer fit for human consumption, covered in hair and various fluids. They made for the perfect weapon, however, which was just what he needed now. Scooping up the remains in the tray Ayumu reared back and chucked the entire stack of dangos at Saeko. As they flew through the air they separated from the tray creating an AoE attack of disgusting sticky dangos.

1. Cast 'Pinching-Nose' defensive jutsu to resist stink damage.
2. Enter 'Trashkage' stance
3. Draw 'Dango Tray' weapon with 'Alleyway Filth' augment
4. Cast 'Dumpster Dango no Jutsu' at Saeko

 

[Takaki Saeko]

Despite the poison stench coursing through my lungs, despite the screaming protests of my bowels, and despite the dissonance assailing my mind, I draw my lips back into a feral grin. Ayumu has finally done away with all pretense of innocence, and now that the genin has found a way to depart to scene, it’s time for the final showdown.

“So, Trashkage, you’ve finally revealed your true self!” I stamp my foot for emphasis, sending a splash of compost tea (trash juice) in the air. “Was Kogami Ayumu doing his best to hold you back all this time? Or was our raikage just another flaccid disguise you put on to trick us all a long time ago? I saw right through you, though! I recognized the danger that lurked within your derpy, happy-go-lucky façade! Now, I know that killing a demon such as yourself is impossible, but know this: you have been sealed away before, and you can be banished again! Do not underestimate humans!”

Despite my brash words, I know that I only have one chance for victory in this engagement. I must force the Trashkage back into the interplanar rift from whence he came, and then seal the dimensional doors. In plain kaminarijin, that means I have to chuck him into a dumpster and close the lid. Only then will Kumogakure be safe and whole. Only then will I have averted catastrophe.

Like the bestial, muck-spawned chaos demon he is, the Trashkage wastes no time attacking. As befits a true noble of hell, his attacks are blindingly fast and overwhelmingly powerful. I only see the filth-covered dango flying through the air right before they all smash into me.

“Agh!” I scream as the gooey, room-temperature balls glop on me all at once. The impact from just one would be enough to fell a normal woman, but nine at once is like when Murphy got executed in the original Robocop. I’m so weakened that I fall to my knees, and I’m so grossed out that I start to hurl.

“Argh!” I wipe the vomit from my lips and raise my head. The world dims around me, but I find the will, from somewhere, to fight on. “D-do you think that’s enough to get rid of me? I told you not to underestimate humans! You’ll never have your way with this village and its cute boys and girls and Osus! My father died defending this place, and I’m ready to do so as well!” I reach around me for a weapon, and my fingers close around one of those supermarket plastic bags filled with decaying orange peels and melon rinds. It’s a decent weapon, but needs a good blessing. I kneel and clasp my hands together.

“Oh, gods and B-list celebrities above, lend me your strength! Allow me to punish the Trashkage for his transgressions and protect the place that I love! ManBearPig, lend me thy wrath! Shinbatsu, lend me thy strength! Charlie Sheen, lend me thy…you know what, never mind! And Great Kahako, icon of purity and goddess of awesome, allow me to stomp on thy husband so that I can be the one to tuck thee in at night!”

By the way, I have no idea when I became a paladin, but this is a matter of life and death. I open my palms and the blessing falls into my hands. A tear falls from the corner of my eye: it’s just what I asked for. Heaven has shown me compassion in the form of the perfect augment to attach to my projectile. The ultimate gross-out item: a tuft of ginger pubic hair.

I toss this into the bag of liquefying rinds, tie it up nice and tight, and launch it at Ayumu. The burst effect will annihilate everything in this alley, but I’m prepared for that. “Perish, vile demon! Fus Roh Dah! Thou shall not pass!”

1HP left and grossed out. Just where I want to be.
Change stance to Maximum Chuuni Overdrive and invoke Divine Invocation!
Toss highly-augmented AoE burst jutsu at Yumers. If it hits, that’s like 5x double crit damage on a natural 20 or something.

 

[Kogami Ayumu]

Ayumu watched as triumph as several of the dango balls collided with Saeko bringing her to her knees. He averted his gaze however, as he vomited. Witnessing that, combined with the stench of the trash surrounding them, was enough to make Ayumu queasy. He had been holding his breath whenever possible, but he had to come up for air now and then and when he did he was pretty sure it was at least 50% excrement he was breathing.

'Why am I still even here? The Genin's gone, I should be going on my merry way,' he thought as Saeko began shouting more at him about how she was willing to die to protect the village. The sentiment was nice if you ignored the fact that she was talking about dying in a garbage fight with the Raikage. Ayumu cocked an eyebrow as she clasped her hands together and began some kind of bizarre prayer to some people Ayumu didn't know, Shinbatsu, and even his own waifu, as if she would grant her blessing to someone facing Ayumu!

Somebody in that list had granted Saeko a blessing, however. A hair, separated from Ayumu didn't dare guess whom. Saeko quickly tossed it in the bag of disgusting rotting orange rinds and prepared herself. "S-Saeko, let's not do anything too rash," Ayumu said, visibly alarmed by the weapon she had procured. He could see in her eyes that she intended no mercy. He needed to move quickly. If that bag hit him and exploded, it was all over. He couldn't risk a failed dodge. As Saeko shouted her finest chuunibyou battle cry, Ayumu quickly grabbed the lid off of a nearby trashcan. The handle was sticky and gross in its own right but it was a sacrifice he needed to make. Like a shield, he raised it as the bag of death sailed through the air at him. Ducking behind it, he protected himself from the resulting explosion as the liquid filled bag burst against the lid.

He stood still for a moment, not sure he had made it out alive. Lowering the shield, he realized that he was still in tact. He tossed the trashcan lid aside and took a few steps back from where the bag had fallen to the ground. That was when he noticed! He had not come out unscathed. The toe of his booth was covered in the liquid from the bag and placed on top like a cherry was that red curly hair. Ayumu's mouth fell agape at the sight. He tried to kick his foot, but the hair was stuck to his shoe thanks to the sticky liquid.

"Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" Ayumu shouted, throwing his hands to the air and falling to his knees. After a moment, he dropped his hands and his head, casting his eyes to the floor. He had been defeated. "It's over... you win..." Ayumu whispered. He would have to burn his favorite pair of boots. There was no way around it now. He no longer had the will left to retaliate. "Please, just leave me be."

 

[Takaki Saeko]

Right now, the only thing that's keeping me afloat is a cocktail of pure adrenaline and the dregs of a bottle of 5-hour Energy that somehow splashed in my open mouth. My vision's a mess: there's red and black flashing everywhere, and the world's tilting crazily off its axis. Forget hearing--everything's a dull roar and I'm pretty sure both my eardrums are out, no doubt clogged by some horrible substance creeping its way to my brain. I have no idea if I'm alive or dead, or if my attack's succeeded or not. All I know is that I have to press forward. If I don't make my stand here, nothing else matters. I'll never hold Tomo again, or bask in Kahako's presence, or take Osuteno's V-card if I stop and let myself die. So I claw forward through the boiling sea of trash, determined to finish the fight.

"I am the bone of my chicken drumstick
Expired dressing is my body and stale beer is my blood
I have created over a thousand packing peanuts
Unknown to cleanliness
Nor known to showering
Have withstood pain to open many dumpsters
Yet these hands will never see soap
So as I pray...Unlimited Trash Works!"​

<i></i>

My hand closes around the toe of a boot. It used to be a nice boot, until it got soaked with that stuff that always smells faintly of iron and drips away from the large dumps behind supermarkets. Is it possibly... My eyes widen as I realize what's happened. Have I actually taken down the raikage? Is that him, wailing and thrashing about in defeat? I have no time to waste on hope, though. I must take action, else the Trashkage will surely escape and inhabit another hapless soul. Hell, the bastard might even decide I'm a suitable vessel. As I pull myself up next to Ayumu's broken form, I realize that my hand's coated with curly red trimmings. As a final insult to injury, now I'm covered in Kitsune's leavings, too.

"Ayumu, listen..." I croak, and wrap my arms around his waist. "I'm going to complete the ritual. I'm going to save the village."

With my last bit of strength, I heave him into the maw of the dumpster behind us. But with the stickiness of everything, the momentum also drags me in alongside him. We both tumble into a mess of shredded newspaper, worthless lottery tickets, and soggy cigarette butts. Overhead, I see that the impact has caused the dumpster lid to wobble, and as it tips over that critical point, I know what's about to happen. Some vestigial instinct makes me immediately shield Ayumu's head from the falling little bits of flaking rust and stuck-on pieces of gum that rain down on us as the lid slams shut.

I've done it: the ritual is complete. The Trashkage is now sealed away, and the village is saved. But, all this has happened at the cost of both of us. I'm not angry or disheartened, though. I'm at peace.

"It's over," I whisper to Yumers, and gently stroke his cheek. "You don't need to worry anymore. Yuii will guide the village well... We did our jobs." As my consciousness starts to fade and my life force gives its final ripples, I let out a chuckle. "Never thought it would end like this. I'm only saying this because we're about to die, but...if only things had been different in the past. I might've found you cute."

Then I know no more.

Fight ends with mutual KO. Later on, they wake up in the hospital or something